Episodes in the Dreaming

Have you ever awoken to just having a dream and thought, if not said out loud the immortal words “What the hell!?

Yeah, that happened this morning when I woke up half an hour before my alarm, so I spent my lie-in remembering the dream I had.  If you want to comment and put an interpretation on, you go ahead, I ‘m not really looking for that as I already know what the dream meant.  The real reason I’m putting this on the blog is because I think its a wonderful example of how our subconscious creates a landscape from what has happened to us during our waking life and psychological breakdown…. you ready to jump in to MY subconscious?

GERONIMOOOOOO!

Its night and I’m in a friend’s flat, in his living room.  There’s about five of us and there is a TV sized computer monitor on hooked up to some site.  There’s a shadow by the door, its here: Baby Numo.  Everyone knows the legend of Baby Numo.  It started as a prank, in Japan as chain letter on the internet, but that many people did it and shared it, Baby Numo became real.  Baby Numo looks like ‘NO FACE’ from ‘SPIRITED AWAY’ a tall black form with a white Kubuki Mask, but no arms.  Baby Numo comes and looks into your soul, it finds your sins and evils and makes them hurt you.  When it comes, you can defend yourself with something, you can’t attack it, but the object MIGHT keep you from being taken away…. instead you are left with a squat plush doll of Baby Numo.  Its, here! and its connected to the computer monitor as that’s how it finds you.  The white screen says two words: ‘EVIL DETECTED’ and one of my friends holds out something, he screams and is gone.  Baby Numo disappears into the shadows again.  We have five minutes each until everyone in the room is done.  Its here again, the next person holds out a talisman and goes crying into the bathroom and is never seen again.  Another five minutes, my American-Asian friend holds out a knife to Baby Numo, then starts breathing deeply as blood sweats from his pores.  When Baby Numo is gone, he just stands there.  Broken.  Its my turn, I go down stairs and raise my energy shield and put on my Medicine Pouch.  Artemis tells me that I won’t need that, I tell her that Baby Numo is like death and if it comes near me I’ll rip its nipples off.  Back in the living room, I stand holding out my medicine pouch, I’m dressed in my Summer Jacket and green hat (apparently I want to look like Indiana Jones when facing this thing).  I’m ready to face my sins but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let them hurt me!  The shadows form at the front door, its here!  I look at the monitor: there are three words: NO EVIL DETECTED.  I put my pouch into my pocket and nod to Baby Numo.  I drop my shields and take off my hat and sit on the sofa next to Pipes.  She doesn’t even get up or hold anything, she’s not even worried.  When her five minutes comes up, the shadows change and the mask drops to reveal an African lady who has brought her doll from E-bay to be passed on.  Again, the monitor says NO EVIL DETECTED. The Scene now changes and I’m walking back with my parents to their home, its still night and we pass the Pizza Hut delivery where mine and Artemis’s take away came from.  My cat, Loki, is walking with me until she gets to a grassy field and runs.  I’m terrified of losing her or finding her corpse on the busy main road so I call out her name.  Nothing, I get my phone and switch on the flashlight app and start shining it around until I see it reflected in her red gleaming eyes.  Rushing down, I pick her up and take her with me.  Never letting her go.”

I mean, seriously! What the actual fuck!?

Where the hell did the idea, the concept of Baby Numo come from!?

The night is associated with our deepest selves, and it isn’t always good, its something we need to pay attention to.  A flat that has stairs? Don’t you love dream places? The living room is a social area, often the one we like to show other people, whereas the real heart of us is in the kitchen… which is where the party always ends up, right?  Its where the stairs took me to get prepared, even with my housemate telling me what I needed to hear, which was the truth… I didn’t need to defend myself, even though I still did.  Hey, I used magic in my dream! Cool! even though I knew raising my ‘shields’ would have no real effect on Baby Numo if I was to be taken, but I did know that at least it couldn’t hurt me.  And as it turned out…. I didn’t need to go.  I know my sins, I know when I have done wrong, I accept that.  The fact that Pipes was there and in the same situation but being totally blasé (which is exactly what she would do) and coming off the same as me helps eliminate any sense of guilt.  Baby Numo obviously represents our Shadow, the part of us that forces us to recognise the parts of us we don’t want to acknowledge or even admit.  When it came for the friends I don’t have in the Waking, it took them as they weren’t at peace with their sins and evils.  The American-Asian with a knife, he even said out loud he knew he’d done wrong, but he wished he hadn’t…. he was gone when I came back up stairs.  Its a damn shame I can’t remember the other objects.  Mine?  it was my medicine pouch… my actual, real medicine pouch, my defence was my own soul… and I was found ‘not evil’ or whatever.  The fact is I have done wrong in my past, I’m no saint, but anything I have done is a part of me.  I regret doing what I didn’t rather than what I did.

What I find really funny is that me and Artemis had a really lazy day yesterday of watching Doctor Who? and Once Upon A Time, the latter of which showed a spot of darkness in a character’s heart (literally- it got pulled out, and you could see it glowing and a drop of the dark stuff had formed in there).  Yesterday a point was made in conversation that didn’t bother me until I thought about it later.  I didn’t do wrong, but I questioned myself if I had.  I think my subconscious digested that, along with the Pizza me and Artemis ordered (and my dreaming referred to) and forced me to look at my so called ‘evils’…. and they weren’t that bad.  The spot of darkness in my own heart wasn’t there to be found.  Quit doubting yourself, lad and carry on, so say I!

My cat? Well that’s a reference to holding back.  Instead of letting something go and be its true nature, I get all defensive and go to hide it from the world. Hmmm…

I would like to observe the two following things:

1- What are the chances of Baby Numo being made into an actual urban myth? It’d make a great experiment!

2- Would my dreaming please, please, pretty please make a dream where I can get Once Upon A Time’s Emma Swan in a Super-Girl outfit?

Baby Numo?

Baby Numo

Image from: diygeekery.wordpress.com Which can also be accessed here.

The Morrigan’s Mask…

I was inspired by this piece written on The Morrigan in Danu Forest’s article on ‘The Gods are not for sale!’ which you can read for yourself here.

So, I have to thank Leithin Cluan, really because she posted it to our Grove.  My particularly favorite bit is:

No the Morriigan is not an easy goddess- disrespect her land and she will want blood. Literally. She is sexual, primal, gutsy, scary- she will do the hard, horrible work, embrace her fury so a clean start is possible- but no she she’s not interested in comforting you because you don’t want to be as tough as your life requires right now, don’t want to wade into difficult moral or emotional terrain. She won’t hold your hand if you are scared of the dark, but she might smile if you pick yourself up, get fed up with your cowardice and do what needs to done. Read the old tales, research the folklore- visit the places on the land that honour her, in the real world. It’s all there. Get out of your own head, your own story- she’s waiting outside.   

Indeed!

Not a simpering maid, this Goddess.  This portrayal is one that evokes primal strength, a bolshy nature of “Well, do it then!“.  It also brings, at least to my mind, the now stereotypical image of the Morrigan: A flame haired beauty screaming across the battlefield with a bloody sword and gore splattered shield.  Heralding the death of her foes as she unleashes a furious murder of crows on those whose souls she has come to claim.  She is the black of night, the crimson fountain, the pale moon all in one and death is her punishment to the weak.  She mesmerizes with her blatant sexuality, oozing appeal with every curve and her eyes dare you to take her… if you can.

This imagery and the above quote, reflect only part of her being.  The Morrigan, believe it or not was only classed as a ‘Goddess of Battle’ only recently.

Everyone who has heard of her is familiar with the iconic raven and crow association, they are carrion birds after all, and eating the slain on the battlefield is a pretty sure way of a having them represent death.

Her powers influence battle to be sure, The Daghda, after seeing her washing in the river convinces her to ensure victory against the Fomorians by having sex with her.  At the end of the battle of Moytura, she sings a song of victory and also prophecies of the end of the world.

In the Cuchulainn saga, she tries to seduce Cuchulainn, only for him to refuse her (something she really doesn’t like).  In that story she shows her shape-shifting abilites: as a maiden, an eel, a wolf, a crone.  The Crone guise is used when Cuchulainn meets a crone with a cow, and is tricked into blessing the crone and thereby healing all the wounds he had inflicted on her.

So yes, she does have an association with death, with transformation and with prophecy.  More than that she is also a Goddess of Sovereignty (this is where the cow comes in, it represent the land, generosity and a number of Goddesses).  Where she is death, she also represents life: fertility and bounty,  both of which make way for the future- something she appears to know of before others do.

I am very aware this is merely an introduction into The Morrigan and will give more of my findings when I have them.  The way I see Her is like the bright full moon behind a cover of cloud: You know she is there and every now and then, she’ll be visible, but only for a moment and even then, was it the full picture?

Like her guises, The Morrigan has many masks.  The mask I see her with isn’t of the screaming warrior, or of the regal queen.  To me, at least, right now, she is mysterious woman showing me I must pay attention.  The choice she brings is to pick myself up or lie where I am and wonder where I went wrong.  Thankfully, I chose the former… after all, in front of such a pretty lady, it simply wouldn’t do to wallow.

I remember meeting the Morrigan in a dream in early 2013, the most distinctive feature I remember is the red make up around her eyes… the below image reminds me of her.  Taking hint of Cuchulainn, offering her a blessing, I have trialled giving offerings of milk.  So far, she likes anything I can give in Her name, but mainly milk, beer, whisky, tobacco, food (Not beef) and chocolate cake.

Image from Old Camarilla Wiki  – artist and details unknown, but would love to give credit to whoever did this.